Last Chances
by of-Quills-and-Parchment
Summary: Rikkai Dai centric. Sanada wakes up one day to find that he is starting to regain his memory about his past life. Issues need sorting out, and enter the rest of the cast. Chapter 11:Things don't go quite as planned. For everyone.
1. Chapter 1

Prince of Tennis…or just Rikkai Dai.

Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis belongs to Takeshi Konomi.

Last Chances

Chapter 1: Awakenings

**_He did not dream often._**

_**But when he did, he dreamt of things ordinary, things like winning Nationals to forgetting his baseball cap. He had never dreamt of a past long dead, a past that he had lived out a few hundred years ago.**_

_**So when he did, he failed to realise what it was.**_

_**Or maybe it was because he just did not remember that he had a past life.**_

_**The first thing he did in the dream was to feel. The night air was still, cooling and slightly chilly after the early evening rain that he somehow knew had taken place. A slight breeze kissed him softly on the cheeks, so gently that it did not even tousle his hair. Faint memories stirred with it, as though trying to rouse from a deep sleep but not quite succeeding. The air was silent, without even a faintest whisper from his surroundings. He opened his eyes, and saw himself standing in a traditional garden. The moonlight streamed down from the cloudless night sky, illuminating his surroundings with a pale glow. He turned around and saw a magnificent house, the moon hovering high above it. The house was traditional, and had a nagging feel of familiarity to him, but he could not pull it up from the deep recesses of his memory. The harder he tried to remember, the more it slipped away from him. Slowly, he found himself aware of the scent of incense. The sweet fragrance, entwined with wisps of smoke was so achingly familiar, yet he could not place it. **_

_**Then he heard it. It was faint at first, then gradually louder. The strains of melody from a flute came from around the corner of the house, and the song rang in his mind. **_

_**He knew this, sad, melancholic song. **_

_**He knew how the emotions this song evoked was a mirror to the emotions felt by the person playing it. **_

_**He did not know the words to the song anymore, just the haunting tune that bore the same disturbing sense of familiarity that the house and the smell of that certain incense created. **_

**_And in his dream, he who had long forgone crying, wept to remember._**

"And so I think we should...Sanada? Are you alright?"

Sanada Genichirou raised his head slowly to look at his captain, whose normally calm and steady gaze was tinged with worry as he scrutinised his vice-captain. Sanada knew that he had blanked out in the middle of a discussion about their training schedule, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had been in a stupor since he started having odd dreams from three nights ago, but there was really nothing he could do about it. He knew that his parents were worried over their youngest son; they did not know about the dreams, he did not see the point in talking about a dream in which the contents were hazy. He was also aware that his friends and teammates have realised that something was tiring him out, but he would die before telling them. He could almost visualise their reactions, mostly of which consisted of merciless teasing and mentions of girls that his teammates would expect him to go for.

"Sanada, is the wall behind me very distracting? Only you've been staring at it for the past five minutes or so."

Sanada was once again pulled back to reality by that soothing voice, now laced with concern and a tiny bit of exasperation. He mumbled an apology to Yukimura, but his focus just kept slipping. The dreams, they just lapped up all his energy and he always awoke feeling more tired than the night before. When he actually felt up to processing rational thought, it was all spent on trying to remember the actual content of the dream. And then there was that song. It kept playing continuously in his mind, like a rather bloody-minded recording, reminding him that there was something that he desperately needed to remember, but he couldn't for the life of him recall it.

Then there was his tennis, and how his performance was slipping. Yesterday, he had missed a serve, and sent the second one rocketing into Niou's face in the next court. Thinking on that, he did not feel any particular remorse for his accident, as Niou had been one of the teammates that were vocal in their evaluation of Sanada's sudden lack of energy. Yukimura took one look at the fatigue written all over his poor vice-captain and requested that he took a break. Preferably for the rest of the day, before he injured anyone fatally. At any other period of time, Sanada would have cringed at the thought of skiving off from training while his teammates exhausted themselves out, but that day, he just nodded bleakly without any protesting, and collapsed on the bed the minute he reached home.

"Sanada!"

He blinked awkwardly at Yukimura, and just remained silent. Yukimura sighed softly, before standing up. "It's alright; we'll continue this discussion tomorrow, go home and rest."

_**Slowly, the dream morphed. He ran towards the soft, melodious music, crystal clear against the silence that surrounded him. As he turned the corner, he saw the entrance to a room dimly lit up by a paper lantern. The sliding door was open, and a young figure with a slender body frame was leaning against it. The figure was clothed in a simple, plain white yukata, made beautiful on the body that seemed to possess an ethereal grace. Arms with skin as fair as alabaster held a long wooden flute, and slender fingers pressed gently on it, moving up and down swiftly and gracefully. The figure's face was in the shadows and try as he might, he could not take a glimpse at it.**_

"Oi, Marui, fuku-buchou is falling asleep on his feet again."

It had been three days since Sanada had last attended training, and now, walking on the corridors, the boy looked worse for wear. Niou could see him mumbling incoherently under his breath, or sometimes just spacing out, which was something he used to disapprove of. _So what could be affecting him so damn much?_ Niou had put his head together with Marui, and amazingly enough, Akaya, and they had concluded girl trouble. But that was about as probable as Renji opening his eyes, because Sanada just didn't look at girls.

"Don't be silly Marui, he wouldn't like her, are you even sure that he like's girls?"

"Sempai, it could be **_her_**."

"Ew, Akaya, please, not even Niou would go near that one."

"Hey! What do you mean-"

"We digress like no one's ever digressed before."

"Shush, Akaya, don't butt in on your sempai."

They had quickly arrived at the conclusion.

"Yukimura Buchou?"

The three chorusing voices made Yukimura looked up from his work with slight forbearance. He wasn't stupid enough to fail to note that the Troublemaking Trio were actually standing next to one another without arguing about whatever it was they usually found necessary to argue over. It was…unnerving and that usually spelled…C-H-A-O-S.

"Yes?"

The Terrible Trio had something up their sleeves. Yukimura could read them like a book, how they all had widespread grins on their face, how they all had their hands folded behind their back in a semblance of innocence, how their eyes gleamed with more prearranged mischievousness than the usual disorganised pandemonium…the list was endless.

"Wellllll, youknowhowSanadaFukubuchou-"

"What? Sorry, please repea-"

"-Is slightly…disorientedatthemoment…"

"It'snotjustusthatnoticed, it'severyone…"

"Sowedecidedthatithadsomethingtodowithagirl, but-"

"…"

"Sanadaisn'tthekindtowell…likegirls. Soweconcluded-"

"If he heard you…"

And all in unison, "Itsyou. Okayjustgotalktohimnow. Bye."

Yukimura watched them turn the corner to his classroom at 250km/h, while wondering if he should laugh or cry. The Terrorising Trio's inclinations towards matchmaking proved rather…disturbing. Looking down at his paperwork again, he found himself thinking about their words. _They think I'm the reason Sanada is regularly out of sorts?_ Well, it was not an unpleasant thought, merely one Yukimura had never considered before. Stretching slowly, he rose from his seat by the window and left the clubroom to find his vice-captain. _Best find out what's wrong, at any rate._

Rounding the corner, Yukimura was just in time to see Sanada collapse. Panic blotted out the shrieking of the girls on the corridor, or the exclamations of shock, (Good grief! Sanada collapsed!) and Yukimura forced his muscles to work, running over to help his friend up. Helping up became sitting on the floor and cradling Sanada to himself while sharply ordering the nearest student to get a teacher. The girl scampered off, and Yukimura sat there in a daze. _What's happening? _Sanada stirred gently and Yukimura looked down and found himself staring straight into Sanada's confused eyes.

"Seichi."

Yukimura froze. Sanada went limp in his arms. _Fainted from over-exhaustion…god, what did he call me? _Sanada had never called him by name before, it was always Yukimura this, Yukimura that, never _Seichi._ Yukimura wished that he could just shake off the stupid feeling that Sanada had called him that before, because that was just absurd. The sound of hurried footsteps down the corridor broke Yukimura from his thinking and he looked up to see the discipline master and Renji rushing towards them.

Renji helped Yukimura up, and together they picked Sanada off the floor and supported him to the infirmary. Renji smoothed Sanada's fringe away from his face and turned to Yukimura.

"Sensei is calling his family, he'll be fine, Seichi. Don't worry."

"Ah." Renji gave Yukimura a squeeze on the shoulder and was rewarded with a grateful smile. However, Renji wasn't that dense, he could see that something was bothering his friend, and judging by the way his friend's eyes never left Sanada's face for long… _could it be…_

Yukimura left the infirmary only after Sanada's parents reached school.

**_That night when Yukimura dreamt,_**

_**He dreamt of rain, pouring down from the night sky. In the dream, he muses silently to himself, comparing the rain to tears. **_

**_He dreamt of blood. He did not have to check to know that it was his own. No. Instead, he focused on his surroundings. It was always night, almost to the point of pitch black. He could hear screaming in the distance, frantic screaming that dragged on for what seemed like eternity. _**

_**It was the screaming that made each dream a nightmare. He knew that if he just thought hard enough, he would realise why the voice was so familiar. **_

_**He could also hear crying, somewhere in the darkness.**_

_**That made each dream Hell. **_

_**It was still raining. **_

_**But the rain was mingled with tears, both his and yet not his. **_

A.N: Oh dear. This is going worse then expected. Any feedback welcome, you can flame if you want, there's nothing I can do, but I would appreciate your kindness in not doing so. Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Melancholy

"Seichi! Wake up, you'll be late!"

Yukimura awoke with pounding in his head and an odd ringing in his ears. He shook his head in a failed attempt to get rid of the migraine, and then went to take a cold shower, hoping to clear his mind in the process. Yukimura could remember dreaming, but that was just about it. The freezing water flowed over him, and he flung his eyes open. Switching off the shower, he remembered feeling rain. There was lots of rain in his dream.

His memory started pushing forth a voice screaming in the near distance. The voice was terribly familiar, but it was like trying to catch fish with bare hands. The name just slipped out of his grasp. Yukimura, naturally, found this very frustrating, not to mention the fact that he was attempting to think when all his head wanted to do was pound itself apart.

Walking out of the showers, he methodically pulled on his school uniform and took the bus to Rikkai Dai. Renji met him at the gateway, and the first thing that occurred to Yukimura was that Sanada was absent.

"Genichirou is not coming today, his mother called me."

Not coming…Yukimura felt a surge of disappointment, with an underlying panic. For the past few days, it was all Yukimura could do to not stare blatantly at the other boy. It was good having Renji as a best friend, cause than he could helpfully point out that you were ogling your other best friend. Yukimura could not explain the sudden obsession, but he just felt _something _every time he looked at the stoic boy.

"Ah, he's not sleeping again? Should scold him, nationals is coming…" That earned Yukimura a raised eyebrow from Renji.

"The hypocrisy in that, Seichi. You haven't been sleeping either, have you?"

"I have, just not well, but how did you know that?" Renji insisted that it was due to data, and seeing Yukimura every single day and knowing his disposition inside out, but Yukimura thought that Renji didn't quite meet his eyes. _Does Renji know something? _But that was impossible; Renji wouldn't hide anything from him, not about Sanada at least, and not about the dreams, if he knew anything about the damn things.

They walked to class in oppressing silence, both distracted by their own personal thoughts to pay any attention to anything else. They exchanged absent-minded parting words and left for their individual classrooms.

Renji walked on, and then paused in his tracks as he overheard a conversation taking place in a classroom with an open door.

"Oi Yagyuu, do you realise that Yukimura is starting to resemble Sanada? Dark circles around the eyes, and there was I thinking that I had contracted myopia but Marui also-"

"Niou-kun, just concentrate on your work."

"Chehhhh."

Renji expected the team to realise that there was something wrong with their captain as well. _But if I remember everything, then Yagyuu, he should remember too, he was left behind too…"_

He could never ask Yukimura about the dreams, at least not until Yukimura brings up the subject himself. Renji would never speak because it hurt him less that way. He knew that Yukimura's memory was kicking in, just like how Sanada's had a while back. Renji had dreams too, but he knew them, he never forgot what happened so long ago…

**_When Renji dreams, he remembers every vivid content, he remembers reaching too late, he remembers the blood, he remembers the two figures in the rain, one clasping the other in a firm embrace, as if trying to hold onto the other's life. He remembers all the wretched guilt and hate and helplessness. He remembers it all too well, because he felt it before._**

_**He hears screaming. **_

_**Worse still, Renji knows who's screaming it is.**_

Sanada Genichirou sat at his desk. He had made sure that his door was locked to prevent his parents from entering. At least they thought that he was sleeping. When his mother had walked in earlier that morning and saw her son staring blankly at his table, she had pointed firmly to the bed and called Renji up to inform him that Sanada would not be going to school because he was unwell.

Not welcoming the unnecessary interference in his schedule, Sanada had no choice but to comply. However, school had served as a distraction, now he had long hours to mull away without anything productive to do but think.

Thinking was however, not an option anymore. Thinking always led back to the dreams, which was what Sanada was running away from. It had been five days since he had slept properly, four since he fainted in school. He had returned to school the day after, and realised that there was some unspoken tension between Yukimura and him. He had asked Renji if their captain was angry with him, but Renji had told him no, and little else. There was that sneaky suspicion that Renji was hiding something, something that would explain the whole mess.

Turning around slowly, he checked the clock and sighed. It was twelve, last period would be starting and he would have better things to do in school than here at home where he could not stare at Yuki-

Wait. Scratch that. Sanada felt like dying, had more important things to think about than his sudden obsessive behaviour with regards to his captain and how Yukimura seemed to be so-

Oh. He was doing it again. Shaking his head in a failed attempt to clear it of all unwanted thoughts, Sanada put his head down on his desk to get rid of the impending migraine that came all too often. Within seconds, his even breathing sounded softly throughout the room.

**_Pain. The pain was fire in every nerve and bone in his broken body. _**

_**He was lying on his side on the hard ground, feeling the blood leave him to pool around his body, and he stared at the clear night sky. It was a nice night, perfect for reminiscing, if he had more than but few moments of his life left. That smell was there again, that beautiful, haunting scent that used to bring tears of regret to his eyes. But no more of that. There was now only peace and satisfaction. **_

_**Relief overruled the pain. **_

_**As his sight grew dim and his breathing grew heavy, he felt a name escape his lips with a sigh.**_

****"How are you, Sanada? Everyone's missed you."

Sanada looked at the owner of that soft, beautiful voice with an ounce of trepidation. After yesterday's dream, Sanada didn't know if he could still look at Yukimura in the face without feeling embarrassed. As usual, Sanada could not remember much of it, just a night sky and a heck lot of pain and…saying Yukimura's name. Thankfully, Yukimura did not seem to realise Sanada's discomfort, but as they walked down the corridor to their classes ("Renji will not be coming, he said that he has something to do."), he stole a glance at Yukimura's face, and saw exhaustion written plainly all over it. Concern forced nervousness down, and he grabbed Yukimura's arm firmly.

The sudden throbbing migraine hit them both at full force.

**_Rain. Blood. Tears._**

_**"There is no reason for you to be here."**_

"_**I can think of more than one."**_

_**"You said you loved me, did you lie then?"**_

_**"…"**_

_**"Draw your sword."**_

Sanada staggered against the wall, pushing Yukimura back at the same time the other boy pulled away forcefully. Yukimura gasped for air, as the pounding at his temples lessened and faded away. When he regained his composure enough to look at his companion, Sanada started apologising mindlessly, only able to think about the content of that sudden attack of visions.

"What was that? Sanada?" Yukimura's voice shook with uncertainty, a first for him. Sanada realised that the other boy probably had the same visions as he did. _Who was conversing back there? Why did that happen when I touched his arm? What's happening to us?_

Yagyuu turned round the corner and found himself face to face with Yanagi. He started and let slip a "Renji!" before berating himself mentally. _Lovely, Hiroshi. It's supposed to be Yanagi, now._ To his mortification however, Renji just tilted his head politely before replying in a perfectly calm voice.

"So you do remember, Hiroshi."

Yagyuu found himself frozen to the spot. Renji guided him gently into an empty classroom and sat him down. "Renji, why are they remembering? Why didn't we forget? How about the others?" Yanagi found himself smiling slightly. It had been a long time since he last heard Yagyuu so flustered and out of sorts. "You ask many questions I cannot answer, but I must ask you one now. Does Niou remember Masaharu the spy?"

The silence in the classroom hung heavily. It was a clearer answer to Renji than if Yagyuu had shook his head. Renji opened the door, leaving Yagyuu to his quiet resentment. In many ways, Renji knew, Yagyuu was suffering far more than he was. Here, in this period of time, Niou loved him, as a friend or more, but that was because Niou did not remember what Yagyuu had done, all Yagyuu had done. Renji knew that Yagyuu would give everything and anything not to remember.

_** Sometimes, his dream changed. He would be in a room, lit dimly by candlelight from the lanterns. There was the sound of rain pouring on the roof. He would tense involuntarily upon hearing the distant rumbling of thunder. His left hand would reach out to grab the sword, which he knew, would be there instinctively. His right hand would rest on his sword hilt, ready to draw the blade at any given moment. This puzzled him for a moment, as he wondered why he was getting tense at the sound of thunder. **_

_**Then he felt the presence from behind him. The presence in the room moved so swiftly that before he could draw the sword fully, someone hugged him gently from the back. **_

_**Tension melted away to shock to fear to delight when the person trailed a light kiss down his neck. He tried to turn around and failed as the arms wrapped around him tightened slightly, preventing him from moving. He ended up relaxing into the embrace, feeling more love then he could remember ever feeling. **_

****When Yukimura woke up in the middle of the night, he found himself longing desperately after –he could not remember. He cried silently at the strange yet painful feeling of emptiness.

AN: Whooooee. This chapter was a killer, and I made everything too complicated, so editing was necessary. Please review, I would like to know how I could improve!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Guilt

**_When he dreamed, he was aware that he was dreaming. He dreamt of the body sprawled across his futon, blood staining the covers red. He bends down and touches the soft silvery strands of hair, loosened at the end instead of tied up as usual. He notices, like he always does, how beauty was unmarred by death. It was made ethereal. The knife, silver tinged with dark red, slips from his slack fingers. He knows he is crying, knows every detail of the dream so well. After all, how many thousand times did he have the same dream among others, see the same scene every time he closes his eyes and until it creeps into his awareness and he cannot shake it off even when awake. _**

**_He does not dream of forgiveness, only of eyes that mirrored betrayal in their glassy, still orbs. _**

When Yagyuu wakes up, nothing pains him more than going to school after the nightmare, and seeing Niou and that familiar smirk, the achingly similar character and the everything that Yagyuu fell in love with.

"Oi, Yagyuu, I know I'm hot and all, but you've been staring at me for the past ten minutes or so." Niou was not unused to Yagyuu's lapses into dreamland or wherever it was that geniuses with neatly tucked in shirts retired to. However, recently, they had been increasing at an alarming rate, and Niou couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with the dilemma Yukimura and Sanada were facing.

Niou, together with Marui and Akaya had informed Yukimura of their interpretation of Sanada's sleep-loss problem, but Niou never would have done that if he realised that Yukimura would start losing sleep too. _But never mind all that first, lets fix the doubles partner. _Standing up abruptly, he slammed his hand down on the table in between them and caused Yagyuu to jump out of his daydreaming and stare at him in shock. "Masa- Niou-kun?" _Oh, no. _

Slowly, a wide smirk spread across Niou's face. The slip had not gone unnoticed. Reaching out, he tousled Yagyuu's neat hair fondly. "Yes, Hiroshi?" The change on Yagyuu's face upon hearing himself called such was strange, if not the reaction Niou expected. He expected surprise, anger, irritation, but not… guilt? Resentment? Pain?

Niou watched as Yagyuu got up abruptly and left the classroom. For once, he did not follow. Niou couldn't explain why, but he hated the feeling of Yagyuu walking away from him. It was an unexplainable feeling that tugged at him painfully, that Yagyuu had somehow done this before, but that was ridiculous cause then he wouldn't like Yagyuu at all. After staring at the empty doorway for a moment, Niou got up and left in the opposite direction.

Renji watched his friends in silence. Sanada's condition had declined to such a state that Renji suspected that he had not slept for days on end. Sanada spent most of his time staring out of the window during lessons, and if that was not all, he seemed to move through school in a daze, sometimes walking into other students, sometimes, inanimate objects like doors. Yukimura was no better than him. He now looked at Sanada blatantly, without any reservations, and no one dared to tease him after they caught on that the never-ending patience was finally wearing thin.

Renji's thoughts were distracted when he saw Yukimura, who had dozed off in his seat, jerk awake sharply with tears spilling down his cheeks.

**_The rain was back. He was used to the feeling of cold wet drops pouring down onto him in torrents. He felt and saw the blade leaving his body. Falling forward, he felt arms catch him, lowering him gently to the floor, as the person himself sank to his knees. He was cradled tightly to someone's chest and it was painful, so painful and all the while, the rain just grew heavier._**

_**He felt tears stinging at his eyes, not sure why he was crying except that it was not from the pain. He tasted salt on his lips, and realised that he no longer could tell which drops of water were rain and which were tears, and were they his or not or both. **_

_**Turning his head slightly to the left, he saw the silhouette of a magnificent house, and he knew that he was dying in a garden. He recognised this garden, the setting oddly traditional and yet fittingly so, somehow. The rain beat down mercilessly upon the blooming flowers, scattering petals all around. The scene was pretty, unfurling before his eyes in a misty grey caused by the pouring rain, and he was glad that his deathbed was beautiful, because beauty was something he cherished along with determination and love and a great many other valuable traits. **_

_**The rain grew heavier.**_

_**With great difficulty, he turned his head back, and froze at the sight of the man who killed him.**_

_**He screamed then.**_

"Seichi! Seichi, what's wrong?" Renji pulled his friend into a violent hug, rocking him gently while his hands fisted tightly in Renji's shirt.

"He killed me! He killed me." Yukimura refused to let go of Renji, and Renji just smoothed his hair awkwardly, slightly conscious of the strange, suspicious glances they were receiving, and yet also aware that Yukimura really needed him. "Who?"

Yukimura opened his mouth as if to reply, then closed it as he stopped short. "I don't remember." Renji remained silent for a moment, just letting Yukimura breathe deeply into his shirt as he tried to stop his shoulders from shaking. Only when his friend seemed to regain his self-control, did Renji try to ask for details of the dream without prying too much. As it was, Yukimura could only remember hazy details like rain, and a blade sliding through him, and flowers. Renji made a few more reassurances, and then as gently as he could, he pried Yukimura off him, and left Yukimura with his elbows on the table and burying his face in his palms. His captain didn't even seem to notice the unusual brusqueness; he was too busy trying to remember the foggy contents of the dream.

Walking out of the classroom, Renji rushed to the empty toilet in the far corner of the corridor, and turning the tap on, he splashed water onto his face. He knew the dream Yukimura had, did not require clear description to realise what memory it was that Yukimura's mind had fished out. After all, he had been standing there, not more than ten metres away from them both. Renji wished that he could tell Yukimura that he had not been killed, that it was Yukimura who had dropped his sword, who had a dying wish, just so that he could erase the faint trails of betrayal, which he was sure Yukimura felt. He knew that Yukimura had no right to feel betrayed; he had died because he wanted to. Died, and left Renji to deal with the insanity that took over the other man, the man that after the incident, felt that he had betrayed Yukimura.

Of course, Renji was not sure that Yukimura hadn't expected the betrayal. But love is a powerful thing, even if it rendered people stupid enough to be self-sacrificial. And Renji knew that he shouldn't be feeling resentment at being left behind, not after so many years.

While wrapped up in his misery, he failed to notice someone enter the toilet. An arm was placed on his shoulder, and he spun around with reflexes honed way past just tennis abilities.

"Hiroshi."

"Renji, we need to talk."

They walked side by side in silence, until they came to an empty bench near the tennis courts. Yagyuu had a look of determination on his face, something that Renji was used to seeing only on the tennis courts. Or during a battle. Upon sitting down, Yagyuu did not immediately begin talking. Instead, he stared at the empty courts for a while, before saying, " You should have figured out by now why we remember everything."

"It's because we died of natural causes."

The silence returned for a brief fraction. Renji chanced a look at the boy that was now a friend, who had on, as always, the cool mask of tranquillity, which gave him the portrait of calm that was only betrayed by his fists, clenched tightly on the edge of the seat. Yagyuu began again in a tone softer than before, yet with a sharper edge. " Then do you know why some of them remember and others don't?"

Renji remained silent, before shaking his head.

"Ask yourself why some, like Sanada and Yukimura dream while Akaya and Masaharu don't."

Yagyuu walked down towards the courts, while Renji remained sitting at the bench for a long time.

**_When Renji dreams, it is never of the boy that was now his junior. He thought that he had shut that part out of his mind completely, so when he dreamt of running down the corridors of a stranger's house, he did not realise what his mind had revived._**

_**It was long and seemingly never-ending, and the wooden floor boards and the sliding doors that were on his sides were from the conventional setting of an olden Japanese house. If Renji had even the slightest hint of what he was being forced to relive, he would have forced himself awake by all means possible, rather than go through it again.**_

**_As it was, he never anticipated sliding open the door at the far end to reveal blood splashed across the walls and ceilings, indicative of the violent death he failed to prevent._**

_**He only realised what he was seeing when he heard himself screaming, a voice that was oddly detached from his throat, but that couldn't be it because his throat burned from the scream. **_

_**After that, everything became methodical. He would move as if in sequence,as if regaining his memory and having it firmly etched in his mind. He would draw swords against the men in the room, who were laughing cruelly over their deed. He remembered their words, words of mockery, directed at the boy they had humiliated, violated, abused, and broke, the boy whose pride meant the world to him. Renji would stand over their dead bodies, mutilated beyond recognition, feeling the thrill of grim satisfaction. **_

_**As the red fog cleared from his mind, he would reach for the lifeless body from amongst the mess he created, and leave the bloodstained room. **_

_**In his dream, he had no coherent thought, except that he was always too late. **_

Renji woke up in bed that night, heart twisting painfully, feeling the guilt that he had suppressed for the past few centuries.

AN: Ah, can't believe I bullied Renji like that. Sympathetic character, oh well. Hope this chapter was easy to understand, all comments appreciated. They really mean a lot to me. If you think any bit of it is very obscure, please just pop me a note, and Ill do anything I can to clarify it for you. Thanks Loads! Oh yes. There will be parts where pairings will cross with each other. Like for example, instead of Marui and Jackal, I might also have elements of Marui other people. And same thing with all the Rikkai members. This story might have certain celebrity characters that are not from Rikkai showing up now and then, but it is Rikkai-centric. Ok! Hope to hear from you!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Denial

Training that day had been more taxing than usual, with the Troika unusually separated from each other. Yukimura was playing against Marui in court A, serving aces and returning shots with the same accurate precision, but laced with something sharper and deadlier. Sanada was sitting on one of the benches, having just played against Kirihara and giving the second-year a tougher beating than he had taken in a long time. Yanagi was just…standing around and taking data, or at least, he presumably was doing just that. If nothing else, he was avoiding Kirihara. And Niou was going to find out why.

But first, he was going to find out why his doubles partner wouldn't talk to him. And maybe get an explanation on why his **doubles **partner was currently playing **singles **with Jackal.

Yagyuu was normally quiet, yes, Niou could give him that much, and there were times, admittedly, when Niou did something marginally enough to push Yagyuu's buttons and in return, he would receive slightly clipped answers for his effort, but never this flat, outright refusal to talk to Niou. It had started in the morning, when Yagyuu had looked at Niou, then turned away and walked off without the routine, "Good morning, Niou-kun." It had lasted all the way till now, 3.30 in the afternoon. _Maybe it's because I called him Hiroshi. But what's wrong with that!_ Niou would have thought that it was Yagyuu's idea of a very bad joke, if he didn't know that Yagyuu would not joke at the expense of his well-bred manners.

He couldn't help but feel just the teensiest bit hurt.

So it was that after training ended, Niou decided to corner Yagyuu in the locker rooms when they were alone. Yagyuu certainly proved that he could take ignoring to a new level when pressed between the lockers and Niou, he still insisted on avoiding looking at Niou's face. That was all cool to Niou, who after a whole day of being ignored by his closest friend, was looking for a reason to yell anyway.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" He felt a small bit of satisfaction when he saw Yagyuu wince at his use of expletives. So the gentleman hadn't died yet.

"I don't understand what you mean, Niou-kun." Yagyuu's voice was emotionless as always, and Niou searched his face for any glimmer of feelings, but Yagyuu was hiding his emotions well. Niou reached up a hand slowly to tug on the frames but his hand was quickly covered by Yagyuu's, and brought down to rest against the locker again. Niou felt his other hand likewise fastened down. Neither party spoke. And Niou _needed_ to see Yagyuu's eyes. Badly.

Yagyuu couldn't even begin to register his friend's cunning nature when Niou stood on tiptoe and pulled Yagyuu's glasses off with the right side of the frames between his teeth.

"Buchou?"

"Yes, Akaya?"

"Did I do something wrong again?"

"No, why?"

"Then why is Yanagi-sempai angry at me?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know, he's been avoiding me since this morning."

Practice was over a long time ago, but 5.30 found Renji sitting at one of the benches near the court.

Right. Let's go through this again. Hiroshi and I remember because we died naturally. Genichirou and Seichi are remembering because…no idea. Niou does not remember because he doesn't want to…because Yagyuu betrayed him. But Marui doesn't remember because he was happy, I think. Akaya…

He would like to think that Kirihara did not remember because he had been happy. He would like to think that Kirihara chose not to because he was petulant that way. But he knows that he'll be lying if he chose to think like that.

Akaya did not remember for the same reason that Niou chose not to.

Akaya. Renji knows what it was he dreamt of that night. It's difficult to deny, no matter how much he wants to ensure himself that he is not remembering. He had managed that for years, thirty in his past life, and fifteen in his current.

As long as he does not dream of it, Renji can deny it happening. He can deny rushing to save the boy, hoping to see the glorious green eyes just once more.

After all, they were already closed.

Niou knew at once why it was that Yagyuu never took his glasses off. The cold bluish eyes that stared back at Niou reflected every emotion that the boy felt within. Pulling back, Niou shook Yagyuu's hands off, as he removed the glasses from his mouth.

This was the first time Niou had ever heard Yagyuu yell at him.

It was loud and furious enough to make Niou wince. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he wondered if he had pushed one too many buttons.

As the club door closed with a resounding slam behind Yagyuu's back, Niou wondered why it was that Yagyuu looked more remorseful than angry when he had hit Niou and snatched his glasses away.

Sanada stood staring at the painting in his grandfather's room. It was ancient, the colours faded but still visible. It was impossible; this painting had been done way before his grandfather was born. But the man in the picture was identical to the face he saw in the mirror every single day. The man in the picture was a Sanada, possibly his great grandfather or so. Sanada did not know, but he wanted answers.

"Good evening, Grandfather."

"Good evening, Genichirou."

They sat down in the gardens of the traditional house of the Sanada clan. Their clan origins dated back a long time ago, with a long heritage and many years of history. Sanada dutifully poured his grandfather a cup of tea, before proceeding to ask him the question nagging at the back of his mind.

"Grandfather, who is the man in the painting in your room?"

Sanada had the privilege of seeing his normally tranquil grandfather's face break into a semi-frown.

"Our ancestor, why?"

"Ah. He…looks a lot like me."

Sanada's grandfather relaxed at his explanation. "Genichirou, you have his blood, it is natural that you should look like him." The look in the old man's eyes was tired, as though he had a lot of secrets, and had no wish to hide them anymore.

"We were once just a sub-branch in the family. I found an old diary in my room when I was young. It belonged to one of our ancestors from long ago. As the room used to belong to my grandfather before he died, I suppose he must have found it, as the diary dates back to many generations before me. The man who owned the diary was the younger son of the Clan Head back then. His uncle, your uncle from many generations back, was the Clan Head, but he died when he was a young man. It was then forbidden to speak of him. He had, the diary said, betrayed the clan." His grandfather fell silent.

"His portrait…it was sent to us anonymously."

**_When Akaya sleeps, he does not dream of anything out of the ordinary. Sure, every boy has a few odd dreams, some even bothering on unrealistic, but no harm there._**

_**He does not dream about death, betrayal or any of the things Renji dreams about.**_

_**He does not dream, does not remember, because he cannot forgive if he did.** _

"Oi, Yanagi-Sempai."

Yanagi looked up with mixed feelings, and a good dose of apprehension. Standing in front of him, the light from the rising sun gave Akaya an illuminating glow, sort of confident and dominant and powerful. It hurt Renji to see this, as he knew Akaya had been anything but that. Renji allowed a small smile to ensure Akaya that he was welcome. Putting away his notebook, Renji stood up slowly and turned to face the beautiful troublemaker.

"Can I help you, Akaya?"

Akaya blinked thoughtfully. Renji was not certain if he saw a flicker of uneasiness flash across the other's expression before once again reverting back to the mischievous yet alluringly innocent face.

"Yanagi-Sempai, why are you avoiding me? Cause Buchou said that I didn't do anything bad for once, yet you're avoiding me like no one's business, and I hate that." Akaya was as blunt as ever. That's good, Yanagi was sick of beating round the bush and avoiding Kirihara.

"I was avoiding you for unacceptable reasons. I'm sorry, Akaya. I won't do it again."

To Yanagi's surprise, Akaya broke into a smile. It was more sincere and less malicious than normal. "Che, good. I didn't do anything wrong, did I?"

"No, no it's not you."

Marui popped a bubble and sulked. Did everyone think he was a bloody idiot? He knew. He knew everything, remembered everything. Yanagi, Yagyuu, and the way they went about trying to conceal the fact that they did not forget…hah. Marui saw right through them in a minute.

Sitting on the bench near the court, he could see Yukimura practicing his service again. Not as if it needed perfecting, no one, not even their Emperor Sanada could return that serve. Except, Yukimura hadn't played a match against Sanada for ages. They seemed to be deliberately avoiding spending unnecessary time with each other.

It must be repeated, that Marui was not the thick blockhead that everyone thought he was. He knew why both his captains were so tired, and honestly, playing along with Niou and Kirihara was not all that easy, especially when one tried to kill you for betrayal, and another was killed because he betrayed his master in trying to save you.

But Marui never betrayed anyone. And he was not going to start, so his lips were sealed for as long as Yukimura did not remember.

Turning his head slightly, Marui was in view of the locker rooms. The door swung open and Jackal walked out. Marui sighed softly, bubblegum forgotten for once. Jackal Kuwahara was the most clueless out of all of them, for the very simple reason that he had not lived in the same period as them.

And for the last time, Marui was not ignorant. He was clearly aware of the increasing closeness developing between his doubles partner and himself.

Marui would honestly be grateful for this closeness, he would welcome it, encourage it, if only he did not dream.

For as long as Marui dreamt, he would never be able to stop loving another.

**_In Marui's dreams, there was always another youth with him. This boy had sunshine golden hair, and beautiful hazel eyes. _**

_**In waking, Marui could look at Jackal and wish to forget. Asleep, Marui would die before wanting to forget the beautiful man he fell in love with. **_

AN: Hello! This Chapter done, hope the plot is moving. Thanks for all the reviews, please continue reviewing!


	5. Chapter 5

Last Chances

Chapter 5: Confusion

"It's getting worse."

Niou winced in Yukimura's stead when he came toppling off the bench he had fallen asleep on. No one assisted him, no one dared to. When Kirihara failed to reply to his comment, Niou turned to see what could be catching his junior's attention, just in time to see Sanada doze off while playing a match against Yagyuu.

Niou's eyes narrowed when it landed on his doubles partner currently in hiatus, and quickly smoothed his brow out once more. However, he was not quick enough to avoid notice under Kirihara's suddenly awkwardly intense stare.

"Niou-sempai." Kirihara's voice was that much more respectful in an instant, which meant that he had something sensitive to touch upon that might earn him much trouble. It didn't take a genius to guess what he wanted to ask.

"There's nothing wrong with Yagyuu and me." Niou's tone said more than words and Kirihara wisely bit his tongue for once. Niou had to give it to him; the kid was smarter than he thought.

"Yukimura?"

Yukimura opened his eyes at his name. He had been dozing against the bench for quite some time after training had ended. He peered upwards at the tall figure standing against the setting sun and felt a jolt of surprise pass through him.

Sanada's eyes mirrored the concern he felt. While he was tired, it was nothing compared to the exhaustion written all over Yukimura. Sanada could tell that his captain hadn't slept properly in a long time, through the slack body posture, the evident mental fatigue and the slow draining of confidence that once made up the very foundation of Yukimura Seiichi and Rikkai.

He bent down and pulled Yukimura to his feet. Yukimura's eyes widened first at Sanada's boldness, then at the contact. Sanada's hand on his arm was warm, and Yukimura found himself long after the touch, wanting so much more than he should.

He was also bothered by the familiarity of those hands on his skin.

With Sanada's help, they made it into the locker rooms, where Yukimura went to take a quick shower. Despite all the awkwardness, Yukimura was grateful for Sanada's presence. Forcing down a smile, he rushed his bath, and threw on his clothes, before walking out of the shower stall.

**_Yukimura dreamt of nationals and championships and Tezuka Kunimitsu behind a tennis net. He does not dream of blood or tears or warm arms encircling him in the midst of pleasure. _**

Marui bounced out of the pastry shop, once again on the sugar high he experienced every other hour. Behind him, was the reluctant junior who was forced to tag along. Kirihara was pissed, for the basic reason that it was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, there was no training for once, and he could be doing something more productive…like…anything else, really.

"Marui-sempai is greedy and fat and fat and greedy and-"

"Shut up Akaya, just because you're lazy doesn't mean we all can't enjoy the pleasures in lif-"

"- and eats like a pig, like a big, humongous pig-"

"MARUIIIIIIIIIIII KUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!"

Their bickering stopped abruptly. Marui only had a split second to register the odd blonde ball that was charging towards him, before he was flat on his back on the pavement. Kirihara, the ever astute, had made it out of the way just in time.

"Ji-Akutagawa!"

Jiroh nodded enthusiastically at the red-haired boy. "Uh-huh! Marui kun is so cool! Can Marui kun be my best pal? We can play tennis all day! And I really…" Jiroh was interrupted mid-sentence by Kirihara, who decided that screaming was the solution to everything.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE! GO BACK TO HYOUTEI! YOU SCARY……THING!" While Kirihara was not exactly eloquent, he managed to convey his tone across, and Jiroh's face fell like a defused light bulb. It stayed defused for approximately three milliseconds, before another voice from behind the trio relit it.

"Kindly refrain from referring to Ore-sama's teammates as things, Kirihara." Marui's face vaulted. If there was anything worse than bumping into an enthusiastic Jiroh on a sunny Saturday afternoon, it was running into Atobe Keigo, who had an ego the size of Niou's and Sanada's put together times ten. And, oh dear. It seemed like his junior had the same thoughts.

Clamping both hands over Kirihara's mouth (one wasn't big enough), Marui turned around and began conversation. He could not of course prevent that odd pang of jealousy, at seeing Jiroh draped all over Atobe's arm, but it wasn't their fault, Jiroh didn't remember a thing…

"What brings Hyoutei down to Kanagawa? We don't have training today."

Atobe's smirk grew even more derisive, if that was possible. Man, Marui hated him, and he knew it was unreasonable but still!

"Ore-sama does not have to tell you anything. Rikkai doesn't own Kanagawa." Before Marui could retort to that, another voice from around the corner interjected.

"But we sure have more of it than anyone else does." Yukimura greeted Atobe with a challenging smirk. Atobe returned it, and noted that Sanada, who was perpetually glued to his captain's side, was glaring at nothing in particular. How…interesting.

He'd always known that there was something between Rikkai's first and second, but he couldn't say how he knew. Call it a gut feeling, or Insight, or whatever, but Atobe was knowledgeable on that fact. Well, whether it ticked Sanada's fancy or not, Atobe's motive for visiting Rikkai's area was to talk to Yukimura, so he said so plainly, if anything Atobe said could be considered plain.

"Oh?" Yukimura looked amused. Sanada looked like he was going to protest. "Very well. Sanada, I'll meet you at the courts later?" Sanada could barely make his protests audible before Atobe dragged Yukimura off.

Kirihara sidled up to his frustrated vice captain. "Eh, Sanada fukubuchou, you talked to buchou yet?"

The look Sanada gave him was one of irritance and confusion. Kirihara pressed on.

"You know, you've both been avoiding each other, you're worrying Renji-sempai. You shouldn-" Kirihara was silenced by a gentle whack on the head from Sanada. While painful, it had the reassurance Kirihara was looking for. Therefore, he turned away just in time to catch the fleeting moment of longing pass across Marui's face, as he watched Jiroh bounce around him.

Kirihara was confused. Now what on earth was that about?

One street away, and far from earshot, Yukimura leaned against a wall and waited for Atobe to explain the reason for their meeting. Atobe looked…uncomfortable, which was quite entertaining, seeing as Yukimura had never seen Atobe look anything but arrogant. Finally, he spoke up.

"Do you have a portrait of…"

Yukimura frowned. As an artist, he had many portraits at home. But why would Atobe be interested in any of them? It's not like he's seen the damn things… Yukimura opened his mouth to reply but Atobe waved him silent.

"Do you have a portrait of Sanada?" Okay, this was even weirder. Atobe wants a portrait of Sanada? Odd.

"Why do you ask?" Yukimura decided to find out more. However, at this question, Atobe grew even more uneasy.

"Look, Ore-sama knows this sounds stupid, but I just need to know. And honestly, if Ore-sama had a choice, I would be ignoring my gut feelings now, but they're quite adamant so I'm asking you for the last time. Do. You. Have. A. Portrait. Of. Sanada."

"No," Yukimura let the word slip softly from his lips. Then, in a voice even softer than before, he whispered, "Though it feels as though I do."

Atobe's eyes grew distant. "I don't understand. I dreamt of you yesterday night. I dreamt I was in your house, and there was the smell of incense and behind the sliding doors, there was a portrait of Sanada. I took it away."

"Atobe, I don't have sliding doors in my house." But Yukimura knew that Atobe was not talking of his current house. He knew a house that had sliding doors and the smell of incense, sometimes jasmine other times…

They stood in muted silence. There was nothing to be said when you could not comprehend anything.

**_The first thing Atobe feels in his dreams is despair. It's a terrible feeling, clinging to his heart and dragging it down. The second thing Atobe feels is in the physical sense, he feels crisp parchment under his fingertips, and the rough surface of paint. The third thing Atobe feels is reluctance, when the wooden doors of a lavish estate comes into view. He places the parchment down._**

When Atobe wakes up, he is once again tangled in his silken sheets, not in the cold harsh rain, in front of an old house. But he is confused, unsure of why he feels that way, or dreams such things.

He has no inclination or want to remember the loss he suffered.

AN: Sorry for the long long wait! I was stuck, and I still feel like this chapter could do with much improvement, but after much re-writing, I give up. So, tell me on how I can improve on the storyline! Hope you like!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Confusion

Sanada looked about in worry. He had been standing in the school lobby for twenty minutes, and Yukimura was still nowhere in sight. It was unusual for Yukimura to be so late, and if he didn't hurry up, Sanada might just die of apoplexy. Or maybe just worry a lot more.

"Genichirou," Renji's normally calm voice was tinged with a slight unease. Sanada spun around, his eyes voicing the question before his lips could. "Seiichi's mother called. She said he's sick with high fever, and will not be coming today." Sanada's frown, if possible, grew bigger. "Renji, could you do me a favour?"

"Ah. What is it?"

Sanada walked off abruptly, in the direction of the main gate. The school bell rang loudly, signalling the start of their lessons. "Help me excuse myself from lessons, then see to the tennis club training, and remind Marui to tutor Akaya. Also, please help me see to the first years and evaluate their strengths and weaknesses, I need to send in players for the newcomer's tournament. And while you're at it, make sure that Niou and Yagyuu stop arguing and start remembering that doubles requires two people to play." He stopped in front of the main gate, determined eyes sizing up its height. Then, with casual ease, he scaled the gate and vaulted over neatly, landing on the pavement and turning around to say farewell.

Renji opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Sanada. "Ah, I forgot. Please lock the clubroom for me when everyone else has left. Thank you." He nodded to Renji and dashed off before the data expert could say anything. Renji, on his part, was still trying to recover from the shock of seeing Sanada Genichirou, of all people, skip school like he was skipping lunch.

"Honestly, Genichirou, you said one favour."

**_The dreams were back again._**

**_Yukimura opened his eyes to sakura and wood. The old tree-bark was rough on his skin, but he sat high in its branches nonetheless. His robe, a pure incandescent white, trailed beneath him and fluttered in the gentle wind. The surroundings were shadowy, and a fleeting glace towards the sky revealed a night sky with a reddish tinge to it. It was going to rain._**

**_Somewhere in the back of his mind, Yukimura remembered rain and blood, but he pushed those thoughts away. This wasn't the time. He looked down at the negligible weight in his hands, and slowly raised the smooth mahogany flute to his lips. The music that came from the flute was sweet and melancholic. It was his, belonging only to him, and him alone. The crackling of leaves beneath him alerted Yukimura to another's presence. _**

_**The music stopped. **_

**_The young man beneath the tree was garbed in robes of solid black. The six coin crest sewn onto the robe gave Yukimura a faint sense of recognition and confusion. _**

_**He knew this man. He had never seen him before. **_

_**He knew the man's family well. He had only seen the general of that clan once at an official meeting.**_

**_Their families were feuding, sworn enemies. Their families knew little of one another besides the fact that their children played the same sport._**

**_He loved this man. He hated…no. He should be hating him._**

**_His mind screamed the name repeatedly. _**

"Seiichi! Darling, wake up!"

Yukimura woke up covered in sweat. His mother, her eyes bright with concern, held him by the shoulders, and was attempting to shake his head off. "I'm fine, Mom. Why are you in here?" She placed a hand on his forehead and sighed in relief.

"Your fever's gone, thanks to your nightmare. Though, I can't imagine what it could be about." Now that she was convinced he was fine, she could go back to her endless, merciless teasing. Her eyes were twinkling, and Yukimura went icy cold at that smile. He opened his mouth to assure her that his dream was _nothing of that sort, _but she wrinkled her nose in his direction and patted him on the head.

"It's alright darling," she said, while standing up and gliding to the door, leaving him making protesting noises. "Sanada-kun is a very interesting boy after all. I should ask his mother if he yells your name too…"

"DON'T YOU DARE!"

Sanada winced inwardly as he snuck into his grandfather's dojo. With luck, the old man would listen to his explanation before cleaning the floor of the dojo with his grandson's face, for skipping school. As it was Sanada playing truant, his face naturally had the same stoic expression as he came face to face with his grandfather, on his way to take a break.

"Genichirou? Explain yourself." Sanada thanked his lucky stars and led his grandfather into an empty room. They sat down facing each other, Sanada's eyes portraying the copious amount of respect he had for his grandfather. The slight desperation in them didn't go unnoticed, either.

"Grandfather, I've been having…dreams."

"You skipped school to tell me that?" Sanada waited with forbearance for the old man to school his expression back to its usual tranquil façade, before rushing on to assure him that firstly, it wasn't _those kind of dreams_ that he needed help with, and secondly, this was a matter of utmost importance. "Sorry boy, what are they about?" Sanada didn't need asking twice. He opened his mouth and let everything pour out.

"So that's what's troubling you these days," the old man said, as his younger grandson finally stopped talking. "You caused your parents much worry, boy. Your mother kept wondering if we should just get you a fiancée, to relieve those boyish urges of yours." His eyes shone in amusement as Sanada winced and tried to hide the blush spreading across his face.

"…Idon'thaveanyboyishurges."

His grandfather ignored that. The light went out of his face, and he looked sombre, and more aged than Sanada had ever seen him before. "Genichirou, have you read our clan's history yet? Do you know that there's only one unedited copy? The rest were all changed to hide an embarrassing secret." Sanada sighed in impatience. Yes, he had read their history before, countless times in fact, no, he didn't know that all the copies were edited, and could his grandfather just arrive at the point?

"Boy, don't be dense. Remember the painting? The man's name was Genichirou too. Yes, he was your ancestor, but you probably don't remember this in the books, for the obvious reason that it was taken out." The old man sighed, took a sip of tea, and continued on. "Hundreds of years ago, our clan had a sworn enemy. This too, was taken out of our history books. Now. Sanada Genichirou, the one in the picture, boy, don't be stupid, he was the young clan head. He was to lead our army against our rival clans, and emerge triumphant. But he fell in love, and not with just anyone, but the young heir of our sworn enemy. Genichirou didn't know who he really was, of course, but his lover knew about him. And it turns out that the man Genichirou killed in battle was his lover's father. After that, he disappeared for a while, and when he returned, he was a changed man." Sanada's eyes met his grandfather's. They were remorseful.

"I found the book when I was small. It was lodged in the bricks that made up the well near the main house. I'm the only one that knows how he died, and why he died. And I think you know it too, boy." Sanada's breath caught in his throat. What was his grandfather implying? The whole idea was…preposterous. The whole story was impossible to start off with, and if Sanada wasn't having the dreams, he wouldn't believe an ounce of it.

The only problem being, he was having dreams. Tons of them.

Sanada stood up from his kneeling position. Outside, the sun was burning fiercely; tennis training had begun awhile back, but Sanada still had one more trip to make. He bowed politely to his grandfather, who was now watching the koi in the pond intently, as if trying to clear his own thoughts. Sanada walked towards the door and slid it open. Then he turned around once more.

"Why did you name me Genichirou?"

"Cause it's pretty and floral and pink. Use your head boy! I liked the name, obviously," the old man said, without looking up. "And you were a beautiful child. I never regretted it."

Sanada left the room and headed to Yukimura's house.

AN: Part 6 up! Well, hope the chapter cleared any confusing bits up! Promise I'll focus on other characters next chapter! Will be doing Kirihara. Also, next up, will further explore the whole JackalMaruiJirohAtobe rectangle thingy. D1 will be back soon, too! Constructive criticism appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Anger

Kirihara was not a happy camper. Yanagi-sempai, apparently, could not keep promises any better than his protégé, Akaya himself, could. For one thing, Kirihara couldn't shake off the feeling that Yanagi-sempai was avoiding him; his senior always had pressing business somewhere else whenever Kirihara was looking for him, nowadays. Even now, as he walked towards Court D he noticed Yanagi change direction to head towards Court A, which was far, far away.

Unhappy was an understatement.

"Akaya-kun?"

Kirihara spun around glumly to see Yagyuu standing underneath a tree near the court. He walked over obediently; Yagyuu-sempai wasn't like his dreadful counterpart, Kirihara knew that he would be safe from any rubbish Niou could come up with.

But somehow, Niou-sempai wasn't anywhere in sight. Kirihara frowned a little at this, but as Niou's absence was for the best of his interests, he decided to just account it to good luck. He stopped a few feet away from Yagyuu, and decided to look politely confused. "Yes, Yagyuu-sempai?"

Yagyuu smiled gently at him. "Don't be so angry. Yanagi doesn't hate you, you know." Kirihara was mortified. Was he really that transparent? His lower lip stuck out in petulance even as he fought to keep a blush from rising. "But he's always avoiding me!" Well, that came out badly. Kirihara snuck a peek at Yagyuu's expression. Did Yagyuu know about his crush? Quite probably, actually.

"Renji's only having difficulty talking to you; he doesn't want to hurt you anymore, Akaya-kun." Yagyuu ruffled his hair fondly, and strolled away quietly, leaving Kirihara to think under the tree. Yagyuu-sempai confused him; he couldn't see behind those glasses, so he couldn't tell what Yagyuu was thinking, and most of the time, it was hard to notice Yagyuu noticing anything, so he didn't know how much the Gentleman knew. But apparently, quite a lot.

Kirihara sighed softly and plonked down against the tree bark. Oh well, a quick nap would do him a lot of good in these circumstances. He overworked his brain already; thinking through all of Yaguu's cryptic sentences: What did Yagyuu mean by hurting Kirihara "anymore"? Yanagi-sempai had never hurt him before, he wasn't Sanada-fukubuchou, always hitting Kirihara, but that's not really hurting either, is it? So…what on earth did that mean?

And since when did Yagyuu-sempai start calling Yanagi-sempai Renji anyway?

He dozed off in the warm afternoon sun, after making sure that his captains were nowhere near.

**_The rope tied firmly against his wrists tore at his skin. The pain was like needles, sharp and excruciating. His body was covered with burning slashes that cut deeply and agonizingly into him. _**

_**Kirihara had never had a nightmare like this before. **_

**_He opened his eyes to a room, dimly lit by a single lantern; its spartan furnishings were traditional. The walls and floors were covered in blood, and there was so much of it. The paper door slid open, and Kirihara saw a few men walk in. They were holding katanas, two each, and they surrounded him. Their taunting voices reached his ears, but in his dizziness, he could not understand them. _**

_**He hated their tone, however. These were the men who hurt him. **_

**_He launched himself at them, and felt the hungry desire to tear them apart. He knew that the blood in the room was his, knew that they had spilt it. Hands grabbed him roughly from behind and threw him back onto the floor. He could hear them now; their mocking voices telling him to beg, to scream. Kirihara gritted his teeth. _**

_**He would rather die then do either, and he told them so. **_

_**He wasn't ready for the pain that followed after. He did scream for awhile, and then his voice died off along with his hope. They suspended him from the ceiling, and laid slash after slash of the whip on top of the open wounds that they had left earlier.**_

**_After what seemed like eternity, the rope was cut and he collapsed onto the floor in a crumpled heap. He heard their laughter, loud, arrogant, and pleased. Defiance swelled up in him, but he was helpless against them. He had never felt helplessness before. He knew, somehow, that he didn't deserve this. _**

_**He turned his face towards the floor so they couldn't see his tears.**_

**_There were faint footsteps down the corridor, and the sound of a door sliding open, and then a familiar voice was screaming his name. _**

**_For a fleeting moment, he felt fear._**

****Someone was holding him tightly, and softly calling his name. Kirihara opened his eyes and came face to face with Yukimura. "Buchou?" He asked in slight confusion and also embarrassment, as his face was damp with tears. "Renji's coming, Akaya. Was it a bad dream?" Kirihara felt his throat run dry. He could only remember pain, and nothing else to it.

"I…don't remember."

Yukimura looked as though he wanted to say more, but Yanagi came running from a distance, and he stood up. He walked off, as though slightly confused, but Kirihara was distracted by other things. Yanagi knelt in front of him and reached out to brush a stray lock of hair that kept falling into Kirihara's eyes. Kirihara didn't know why, but by pure instinct, he brushed Yanagi's hand away, and then stared at his own hand in shock. He had moved without thinking, almost as if he expected Yanagi-sempai to hurt him…

Kirihara didn't miss the hurt that flashed across Yanagi's face, and guilt tugged at him, but he couldn't bring himself to apologise. It was as if there was reason for his sudden, seemingly irrational anger towards his senior. "Are you alright?" Yanagi-sempai's voice was gentle, as soothing as always, but today, it couldn't calm him.

"Don't pretend you're so concerned! You're a fucking liar!" Kirihara sprung up from his sitting position and shoved Yanagi away. He snatched up his racket from the ground where it was next to Yanagi who fell backwards when Kirihara pushed him, and he sprinted off towards the club room.

Niou looked up from his reverie when the door slammed open, to see Kirihara dash in and throw his precious tennis racket at the trophies laid out on a table. Niou's eyes widened in shock when he realised that Kirihara was on the verge of bursting into tears. His own problems were forgotten for the time being.

"Aka-chan is cryyyyingggggg?" Niou approached the matter in the only way he knew how to.

Kirihara glared furiously at Niou, but Niou looked more concerned than derisive. Kirihara looked at his senior with mixed feelings, then he threw himself towards Niou and bawled. Niou blinked in amazement. This was something he didn't see everyday. He almost wished that he could film this to show Yagyuu and maybe they could have a few good laughs over it later when Kirihara's problem was settled, but whoops, oh yes, Yagyuu wasn't talking to him. Right.

Niou didn't know what to say, but he could guess Kirihara's reasons for distraught. Yanagi was…a little too unsubtle when it came to his own behaviour. As a result, he just held Kirihara to himself and stared at the roof of the clubroom, wondering what was happening to his team.

AN: Hello! This update was faster than the last? But it's shorter. Eheh. Tell me what you think! Sorry to all the YanaKiri fans out there reading this, I love that pairing too, so don't worry about them! And Niou's mess will be fixed soon enough, but not before I start with…Marui. Just wrote out the whole plot for the past life thingy, and had to change many things in my plans to make them fit together nicely. Hope nothing goes wrong! Let's see if you all can guess what happened back then? Till next update!


	8. Chapter 8

Last Chances

Chapter 8: Memory

Marui sat opposite the bouncy Hyoutei regular, and tried to focus on his triple fudge sundae without any avail. Marui had bumped into Jiroh at his favourite ice cream parlour and Jiroh and seized the opportunity to corner his reluctant idol. Or at least, said idol was reluctant only in the outsider's eyes. Marui couldn't help but watch his old beloved's every move, how Jiroh flopped onto the chair, all arms and legs and boneless grace, how his curls caught the light when he laughed, how his delicate lips were full and soft _and do they still taste like they did that one time? Shit! Focus, Bunta, fooocusss._

"Jiroh, what on earth are you doing here again?" Marui schooled his voice from mindless adoration into the more acceptable tone of slight impatience and exasperation.

"Ehhh, I don't know, Marui-kun! But it's a good thing anyway, because I get to eat ice cream with Marui-kun! Sugoiii!" Jiroh brushed the question aside easily, going on to his more mundane habits of hero-worshipping everything Marui did. Marui tried his best not to laugh at Jiroh's adorable behaviour.

"So, where's the ice prince? Where's Mister I'm-too-good-for-everyone-else? Isn't he usually lurking around you?" Actually, Marui knew that it was probably Jiroh that trailed Atobe like a puppy, seeing as how he had been Atobe's pageboy in his past life, but that was a point Marui was still sore about.

Jiroh made a distressed sound at Marui's cruel name calling. "He's..not…he's..not a bad person…and I don't know where he went after school today, so I came here to eat ice cream, and bumped into Marui-kun, so it's a good thing?" Marui loved Jiroh's never-dying optimism.

"If you say so, Akutagawa." Marui ceased conversation and turned his locus of concentration onto his long-neglected sundae.

* * *

**_Jiroh looked at his hand in wide eyed shock. His mouth was opened slightly, in muted disbelief at his own actions. He raised his head slowly, and came face to face with his best friend._**

_**Marui's eyes were kind as always, but Jiroh could see the hurt imbedded clearly in those beautiful violet orbs. He reached out with trembling fingers and brushed the red mark he had left across Marui's right cheek. **_

_**"I..I'm s-sorry Marui-kun, I didn't mean to…but I-" Marui's gentle fingers pressed to his lips, and Jiroh fell silent. **_

**_"I have to leave the estate. That assassin was strong, and Sanada would probably send more. Already, he has claimed the life of my friend. Jiroh, my staying here would only endanger your lord and his people." Marui's hand trailed from Jiroh's lips to cup his cheek lovingly. "I don't want anyone to die for me, anymore." _**

**_Jiroh reached out and grabbed onto Marui's sleeve pleadingly. "Don't go Marui-kun," he begged softly, the words coming straight out of his mouth without going through any thought processes. He couldn't explain how he knew, but Marui was going to die. "If you leave…I'll never see you again." _**

"_**Then come with me. Jiroh, what I said earlier on… I wasn't lying." **_

**_Jiroh felt confused…he couldn't recall what Marui said earlier, but some small part of him, a part of him that had already been through this before, seemed to know exactly what Marui was referring to. It was the same part of him that knew exactly why he slapped Marui. _**

_**"Marui-kun?"**_

_**"He doesn't love you, Jiroh. You're only his pageboy." **_**_

* * *

_**

Yagyuu sat in his bed, curled up with a mediocre thriller he borrowed from the library the other day. The book's abysmal quality wasn't enough to distract him from the growing problem with his doubles partner. The last time he passed Niou on the corridor, he made sure to brush past his friend without any sign of recognition. Then the day before that, he ignored Niou's scathing questions on 'trouble in paradise'. And the day before the day before, and the day before that whole chunk of day befores. Yagyuu sighed to himself, and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. Niou didn't deserve the harsh treatment, but it was the only way Yagyuu could prevent him from getting hurt again. The further away Niou stayed from him, the less Niou would be forced to remember.

He would ignore Niou even if the other boy was climbing in through his two-storey high window, drenched in rain from the terrible storm raging outside and…

"Niou-kun?" Yagyuu bolted up from bed, his glasses slipping off the comforters and onto the floor.

Niou smirked triumphantly. He had made it up, and for a bonus, Yagyuu wasn't wearing his damned glasses. "I thought you forgot my name, it's been a long time since you used it, that's for sure."

Yagyuu scowled at him. "You should go home Niou-kun. Your parents will be wondering where you are."

"Then it's a good thing that I'm safe at kind, obedient Yagyuu-kun's house, instead of gallivanting around town, isn't it?" Niou's voice was laced with cold mockery.

"Niou, get out."

"What? Can't ignore me anymore?"

That did it. Yagyuu's polite façade shattered and he started yelling angrily at Niou, hoping that the other boy would get so riled up, that he'll decide to ignore Yagyuu for the rest of his miserable existence, too.

"YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!"

Niou had other plans. He reached up, grabbed the front of Yagyuu's T-shirt, and punched him in the jaw. He dumped Yagyuu unceremoniously on the floor and shouted back furiously. "The only reason why I don't know anything, Yagyuu, is because you never tell me anything! You keep pretending you're so high and noble, but you'll kill me without even telling me why! What did I do to deserve that kind of shit! WHAT DID I DO TO YOU!"

Yagyuu felt his blood run cold. He stole an uneasy glance at Niou, who didn't seem to notice the slip in time frame. Niou calmed his hard breathing and flopped down next to his partner. His gaze on Yagyuu was intent, and Yagyuu stared right back into Niou's unfathomable eyes. Then, as if in a trance, Niou reached out towards Yagyuu and wrapped his arms gently around his doubles partner. He placed his lips directly against Yagyuu's ear, and whispered softly, before collapsing into Yagyuu's arms.

"Hiroshi…"

* * *

The room was pitch dark, and Marui's arm fumbled around for the damned ringing device known to the world as cell phone. Upon making contact, he contemplated throwing it against the wall and ending its miserable existence, but a glance at the caller id through bleary eyes revealed that the insane caller was one Akutagawa Jiroh.

Marui was impressed at the fact that at such a god forsaken hour, Akutagawa Jiroh. Was. Awake.

He picked up the phone and mumbled a sleepy greeting. Jiroh returned the greeting moodily, a big change from normal.

"Marui-kun…I had a dream about you." Jiroh sounded troubled. All of a sudden, Marui didn't feel all that tired anymore.

"Do tell."

There was a slight pause on the other line, as Jiroh tried to salvage the remnants of the already fuzzy details of the dream. "I don't quite remember much, but I know that I-I slapped you, but I don't know why! I wouldn't have done it if I could have not done it Marui-kun! And then I…you said something…and I felt sad, but I don't remember what it was that made me feel that way, but then…you told me that I slapped you for you telling me that Keigo doesn't love me. But why would I do that? And I don't know where Keigo comes into this, because he wasn't even in the dream, but somehow I knew that it was him we were talking about…and that's kind of weird isn't it? Marui-kun? Are you listening?"

"A-ah. Of course I am." Marui knew which incident it was that Jiroh had dreamt of. It was the last time he had ever seen Jiroh. And now, centuries later, it hurt Marui even more, because all Jiroh remembered about their parting was slapping him because of Atobe bloody Keigo.

"Jiroh, I want you to just go back to bed and ignore that dream. That's all it is, okay? A dream. I have to go, I have morning practice tomorrow." He disconnected the call before Jiroh could hear him cry.

AN: Hello! Sorry for the huge break in between this chapter and the last! I was drowning in school work and piano and everything else, and had no time to update. Also was suffering from a block of the worst kind. So, here it is! Hope the story is moving even more now. Will try to have more dream scenes in the next update, which hopefully, will be up before the week is over! Thanks for reading, and please tell me how this chapter was!


	9. Chapter 9

Last Chances

Chapter 9: Love

Morning found itself a sulking Marui, with dark circles under his eyes. After the call from Jiroh, Marui could not go back to sleep. Instead, he spent the whole night tossing around in bed, trying to find a relaxing position that would allow him to return to slumber land. As Marui trudged out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, his house phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Bunta? It's me. Do you want to catch a movie?" Jackal sounded cheerful as always, and Marui couldn't help but feel slightly happier than before.

"What about training?" He would love to watch a movie, hell, anything that distracted him from Jiroh, but not at the risk of incurring Sanada's wrath.

"Don't you read your voice mails? Training is cancelled; Yukimura wants to watch some team's match today."

Oh yes, Marui's day looked a whole lot better.

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Yukimura stood up abruptly, causing Sanada to look at him in confusion.

"Let's go. This team is not worth out time, their reputation is overrated." Yukimura didn't bother lowering his voice, and the supporters around them were throwing nasty glances. However, the Rikkai school uniform kept everyone from opening their mouths. Sanada nodded, before following his captain.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Yukimura stretched lazily, and Sanada had to tear his eyes away from the enticing sight. He also had to pointedly ignore the way Yukimura enjoyed unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt in recognition of the warm weather.

As a result, Sanada was intently focused on not staring at Yukimura's slender body, and imagining what it would be like to pin him against the lockers and….nonononono! That was going all wrong. He shouldn't be thinking of Yukimura in those contexts, it was inappropriate-

"Like what you see?"

Sanada was jolted back into reality by Yukimura's slightly teasing words. He then realised that he had been staring at Yukimura for the past five minutes, despite his desperate attempts not to.

"Ah..er…let's eat."

If it was possible, Yukimura's smile widened even more. "Now that you mentioned it, my mother made some snacks this morning that she wanted you to try. You do know how she's so fond of you…"

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Yagyuu opened his eyes and peered blearily at the white ceiling. It was far too bright; he must have forgotten to set the alarm. He squinted at the watch on his wrists, and sighed. Ten thirty in the morning; he had overslept.

Yagyuu was about to sit up, when something snuggled closer to him. He froze in panic. The warm thing in his bed wrapped arms around his waist and nuzzled his neck.

The warm thing was his doubles partner.

Yagyuu then remembered everything that happened the night before, how Niou had came in through the window, how Masaharu had somehow took over control of Niou's mind, and how Niou had fainted on him. He also remembered picking Niou up and dumping him on the bed, before plonking down with him after half an hour's worth of debating whether he should or not.

As Niou threw a leg over him and pinned him effectively to the bed, Yagyuu prayed fervently that his friend did not wake up. He'd never hear the end of it. He now had to extricate himself from a major problem.

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Sanada sat at the kitchen table, his eyes never leaving the note on the table, left by Yukimura's mother. It said, "Gone grocery shopping; will be back after lunch! Love, mum."

They were all alone in the house.

Yukimura bustled around the kitchen, reheating the snacks that his mother made, and getting a drink for his guest. "Tea, I suppose?" At Sanada's curt nod, he rolled his eyes.

"Lighten up, fukubuchou. No one's challenging your authority today."

Sanada scowled at the joke. He felt like redirecting that scowl at Yukimura, so he lifted his head, and froze. Yukimura's face was mere inches away from him; the other boy was just setting out the plates and utensils. Yukimura's eyes were wide with astonishment, something that Sanada was not accustomed to seeing. He did, however, remember those eyes, and he knew by heart the various emotions that displayed themselves in them…love, bitterness, anger…

Without thinking, Sanada leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against Yukimura's. The other boy gasped in shock. Sanada's arms were sliding across his back, and pulling him forward aggressively. Yukimura landed in Sanada'a lap, and a blush was slowly forming on his cheeks. He willed it back down angrily.

The kiss became more heated, both fuelled by memories in their subconscious, and Sanada ran a hand underneath Yukimura's shirt, feeling the smooth warm skin, the slender, toned frame. Yukimura moaned into the kiss, pulling at Sanada's tie in an effort to bring their bodies closer together. It was at this moment, however, that they were interrupted by the front door opening.

Captain and vice-captain sat unmoving, rooted in their indecent positions by sheer horror. Yukimura's mother pranced into the kitchen and stopped abruptly at the scene she had walked in on.

"Oh…my," she managed after a good half minute of looking at them, the way Sanada-kun's hands were under her son's shirt, and how her son was sitting in his lap, pulling at his tie, and both obviously very, very busy.

Her voice seemed to break the spell, and in a flash, Yukimura was off his friend's lap, and Sanada had straightened his tie, no doubt back to its usual immaculate self, and was bowing politely to her.

They definitely weren't prepared for her laughter, though.

"When you said that you were going to observe and analyse a team, I didn't realise you meant your own team. Or in this case, your team's vice-captain." Sanada looked down awkwardly, feeling like a child who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Well, it was similar really, except that the jar happened to be Yukimura's shirt.

Yukimura, tried, and failed quite miserably, in getting his mother to shut up.

"Muuuum! You said after lunch!" She ignored him effectively, being the only person in the world who could do that.

"You know, Sanada-kun, I used to wonder why Seiichi always woke up screaming your-"

"MUM!"

A mortified Yukimura dragged his bewildered vice-captain out of the kitchen before his sadistic mother could ruin his reputation for good.

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Marui stared around him, heart feeling lighter than it had since meeting Jiroh the day before. Jackal was going on about some weird new album, borsa noval, or something odd jazz genre like that. Marui listened to him patiently, just delighted with this peaceful contentment he was experiencing.

The café was definitely the right atmosphere for their little rendezvous, and it had the best chocolate mochas in the whole of Kanagawa, hell, maybe even the whole of Tokyo. Marui was in heaven.

But bliss was always short-lived.

The door to the café swung open, revealing none other than one Akutagawa Jiroh, and his Atobe-sama. Marui gaped in undisguised horror, as the duo made their way to the counter, Jiroh bouncing excitably and Atobe with more poise.

The green –eyed monster known to the world as jealousy reared its ugly head once more. Marui needed to leave, preferably without the Hyoutei ice prince and his sleeping beauty noticing.

"Come," he whispered harshly to Jackal, who was studying him with a look of amusement and slight confusion. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Jackal's hand and pulled him along, dodging behind other customers and patrons. Jackal stumbled over objects and children, trying to keep up desperately, and yet also trying to shake Marui off.

The door was just a few steps away, when Jiroh's exuberant voice floated over to him through the din.

"Keigo, Keigo! Can I have that! Please pretty please?"

Marui gritted his teeth with frustration, and stormed out in a furious rage. His happy day had totally vanished.

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Yagyuu sighed in relief, as Niou rolled over and fell back asleep. The beautiful trouble maker had a slight frown on his face, something which Yagyuu was not accustomed to seeing. It made him…adorable. Yagyuu shook his head and sighed. Best he called Renji to inform him of the new development.

The phone rang just once, as it was wont to do in the Renji household, before the receiver was picked up. It always made Yagyuu feel uneasy, how the inhabitants of the Renji household all seemed to possess that omnipresence that their youngest son had acquired.

"Yanagi Residence, Yanagi Renji speaking."

"Renji, it's me."

The voice on the other line paused for a split second, before continuing. "What happened with Niou now?" Renji was as confident as ever, choosing to mysteriously arrive at the caller's main reason without all the beating round the bush.

Yagyuu took a deep breath, and started explaining. When he was done, he heard Renji's pencil scribbling away in the background. A slight smile twitched at his lips. Trust the Master to not give up the opportunity to gather data. He waited politely till the scratching sounds of lead on paper were gone, before asking Renji for his opinion.

"I think we should have expected it. Something was going to trigger all their memories sooner or later, even those who chose to forget. Niou is pretty much in the same situation as Akaya. He'll remember, Hiroshi. Then, it's up to you to persuade him that you're not who you used to be, that you would never betray him again." Renji sounded tired, as if he didn't sleep well the night before. Yagyuu knew that he probably didn't.

However, before he could reply Renji, an angry voice interrupted them.

"Well, he's not very convincing right now, is he?" Niou sounded furious; there was no other word for it. The receiver was replaced with a loud slam, and faintly, Yagyuu could hear it echo from his bedroom. Renji was silent; this was a twist he certainly didn't expect.

"I better go." Yagyuu agreed and they hung up the call. He rushed up the stairs two at a time, and grabbed the door knob, before pausing. Niou would be on the verge of homicide. What could Yagyuu do to explain himself? Niou would know how perfectly serious everything was; Yagyuu didn't joke, and Renji didn't amuse himself by lies and deceit. And it made everything fall into place, why Niou probably couldn't remember anything other than climbing through Yagyuu's window, why their team was suffering so much internal conflict…

Why Yagyuu was avoiding him.

No, Yagyuu couldn't face Niou again, not after Niou heard all that.

Before he could remove his hand, the door swung open, and he fell forward and onto one Niou Masaharu.

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**_It was pitch dark, the faint candlelight leading to Renji-sama's room was too dim to allow Akaya to see properly. He clutched at the knife imbedded in his right arm, and hissed at the pain coursing through the numerous wounds on his body. How the hell did he get such terrible injuries? To Akaya's astonishment, he found that he had no idea whatsoever. The door to the far right slid open, pulling Akaya back from his thoughts. _**

**_The man was as calm as always. He led Akaya gently into the room, and sat him down on the futon. Akaya was confused, but glad, glad that Renji-sama didn't question him about his injuries. He wouldn't know what to say…_**

**_The pain in the wounds subside a little, as Renji-sama tended to them carefully. Akaya frowned in confusion, unsure of the strange messages his brain was sending him. _**

_**Something told him that Renji-sama had always been the quiet Clan Advisor that sat behind his Master and childhood friend, and watched over the matters of the clan with a sharp eye. Something else told him that that was a load of rubbish. **_

**_Soon, the pain was replaced with an immeasurable fatigue, and Akaya felt his eyelids drooping. Arms lowered him tenderly onto the futon, and despite thoughts of impropriety, he slowly drifted off into deep slumber…_**

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Kirihara opened his eyes and blinked at the ceiling. If he wasn't wrong, he had just woken up from a dream about…sleeping. He sat up in his bed, and winced at the sudden pain in his right arm. He looked down hurriedly, but his arm was unblemished and unscarred. There was nothing to suggest the pain, which was now…gone.

He sighed. Ever since that day, when he ran away from Renji-sama, he had been having the weirdest dreams ever. Sure, he liked Renji-sama immensely, but something seemed horribly wrong with the whole picture. Kirihara shuddered despite the warmth of his bedroom. Renji-sama's eyes that day had seemed…so…Kirihara's bright green eyes widened in fascinated horror. He had, for the past five minutes or so, been addressing Renji-sempai as Renji-sama. 

He knew that the warm blush burning on his skin was way inappropriate. He could even hear Niou's voice, mercilessly teasing him about kinks. He curled up into a tiny ball under the blankets once more, pouting slightly at his body's traitorous reaction. He didn't like Renji-sempai that way, did he?

And yet, after avoiding his senior for so long, Kirihara found himself longing to steal glances, found that he could not keep his eyes away, no matter how hard he tried.

So wrapped up was he, in his self-indulgent reverie, that he failed to notice his mother telling him that a guest was going up, and would Kirihara please make himself presentable before he embarrassed their family name permanently?

It was only with the polite knock on the door and the turning of the door knob, that Kirihara snapped out of his musings, raising his head in time to see Yanagi Renji walk through the door.

"Akaya," Renji called out softly, his voice as kind and beautiful as ever. Kirihara found himself swallowing, both with fear, and another, far worse feeling.

"Re-renji-sempai," he croaked out hoarsely, mentally murdering his throat for betraying his current feelings.

If Renji noticed, he didn't say anything. Instead, he just tiled his head to one side, and began ordinary conversation. As Kirihara listened to all the juicy details of the latest training regime, and Sanada's encounter with the lizard in his hat, he found himself wondering what Renji was playing at. _Why isn't he angry with me? I was obviously avoiding him for the past few days!_

Renji just stood there and watched his clueless junior, his face serene and patient, as if waiting for Kirihara to catch on. It only took a fraction of a minute more, before realisation dawned on Kirihara. Renji was there, because he had forgiven Kirihara already. Now, he was just waiting tentatively to see if his junior was in a forgive-and-forget mood or not.

In a quick swooping motion, Kirihara had leapt off the bed and into Renji's waiting arms. He buried his face in Renji's shoulder, not wanting his senior to notice the blush on his face. Renji stroked his hair with loving fingers, and whispered softly to himself. Kirihara could only catch the last line.

"Honestly, your temper tantrums haven't changed much, have they?"

It only served to confuse him further.

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Niou sat across from him, his face unsmiling. _What did you expect? _Yagyuu scolded himself mentally. Niou was probably going to tear his internal organs out and feed it to him, for keeping such an important secret hidden.

"How much do you know?" Yagyuu sounded weary, his voice ringing with the years of despair and tiredness. Niou seemed to be able to tell this; his harsh gaze softened.

"As much as I heard over the phone, and before you start nagging about moral issues, I'm telling you that I never had any to begin with." Niou pulled the chair nearer to the edge of the bed, where Yagyuu was sitting. "It's your turn to explain."

And so, Yagyuu did. He didn't leave anything out, telling Niou the whole story from beginning to end, as best as he knew it. Niou's dazed expression told Yagyuu that the boy was surprised to no end. That was expected of course; who would believe that their reincarnated friends had returned after hundreds of years?

When Yagyuu reached the part about the commissioning of Niou's death, he paused and hesitated.

"Let me guess. It was Yukimura?" Niou asked dryly.

Yagyuu nodded slightly, before looking at Niou through worried eyes. His posture was tense and uptight, and Niou rolled his eyes irritably.

"Finish the story Yagyuu. I want to know about my death." Yagyuu looked away, but he couldn't hide the guilt and remorse he was feeling. Slowly, he let the truth unfold. At the end of it, he remained where he was seated, not moving even when Niou stood up and walked in front of him.

Before Yagyuu could register what was happening, firm lips had descended onto his own. He stiffened uncertainly, one side of him wanting Niou to stop; he wasn't good enough for the beautiful boy. The other side remembered the taste of Niou's lips with a painful clarity.

Then, it was over. Niou drew back, and rested his forehead against Yagyuu's momentarily. His eyes were serene, holding none of the disgust and abhorrence that Yagyuu was expecting.

"I don't blame anyone, you fool. I may change my mind later, if I start remembering, but for now, I don't blame anyone."

In a blink of an eye, Niou had waltzed to the doorway, and gone down the stairs to salvage lunch.

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Yukimura's room was exactly the same as Sanada remembered it, in his last visit a year or so ago. Back then, it had seemed like nothing to be in Yukimura's room. But given the current situation, it was…quite embarrassing.

Yukimura appeared to be harbouring the same thoughts, the way he seemed slightly edgy and out of sorts. Sanada strolled over to the edge of the bed, and sat down. Yukimura was standing by the window, looking out into the distance. Sanada felt something trigger within him at the sight; a part of him recalled Yukimura standing before him once, bathed in the warmth of the sunset, and the sounds of cicadas chirping in the background…

"Sanada?"

He retuned to earth abruptly. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

Yukimura's smile was amused, but not unkind. Sanada stood up, and wrapped his arms around Yukimura's waist. His captain leaned back into his embrace.

"You know, I've been having all these unusual dreams recently." Yukimura's voice was distant, as if trying to recall something important.

Sanada nuzzled his neck, and tried to seem nonchalant. "What were they about?" _Let's draw a comparison, then._

"Well, there are the ones where I'm dying in someone's arms. There's a garden of sorts, as well as a house. It's raining too."

"Raining?" _It does tally. Grandfather wasn't lying…_

"Yes, but not in all of them. There was the one where I was in a sakura tree. Then I saw a man, he had a… a six coin crest on his robes, or something like that."

Sanada prayed fervently that Yukimura had not noticed his family emblem; it was literally all over his house.

"And…there are the others, where I am alone in the house, or when there is someone else with me and…" Here, Yukimura trailed off, a slight flush colouring his cheeks. Despite himself, Sanada smirked into his captain's shoulder. Oh yes, he knew which dreams Yukimura had almost recapped to him.

"You're very warm. Are you alright?" Sanada loved turning the tables on his teasing friend. Yukimura gently pulled out of the embrace, taking great care not to show Sanada his face.

"I'm fine," he spoke, to no one in particular, "Let's just go downstairs before my mother comes up with another unhealthy speculation."

AN: Sorry for the delay! I told myself that I would get this up by the last weekend, but I couldn't seem to finish it! So I made it longer than usual, and now, I think it's too tedious to read. But on a happier note, I finished their whole past story, back in the 1600s, so hopefully, I can finished this story faster, and put that on too. Then perhaps it wouldn't be so confusing.. Oh wells! Please tell me how this chapter came across to you!


	10. Chapter 10

Last Chances:

Chapter 10: Pain

The ticking of the clock in his room was really worsening his headache. Yukimura Seiichi looked up from his textbook wearily, and peered at the numbers on its face. The time read 9pm. He sighed and flipped to the content page, where the overwhelming number of incomplete chapters fazed even the unbeatable captain of Rikkai's tennis team. Well, this was what he got from spending every minute of waking time with Sanada Genichirou. His only comfort: Sanada was probably in trouble for tomorrow's test too.

After another 15 minutes or so of forced study, Yukimura gave up and allowed his head to thump onto the table. It wasn't so bad to concede defeat once in a while, provided that no one was around to see you do it. Besides, he really couldn't study; all he could think about was his vice captain, and how adorable Sanada could be when embarrassed by Yukimura's displays of…affection. Through his slight musings, Yukimura wondered faintly if his teachers would spare him the poor grade he was certain to achieve tomorrow. In a way, it really wasn't his fault. How could anyone expect him to study, when there was so much cause for celebration? Not only did Sanada stop avoiding him, but those stupid dreams had finally gone away. Life couldn't possibly be better. Now that he was getting all the sleep he needed (except for the nights when he dreamt of stuff that…he would kill before letting his mother gain knowledge about), he could lead his team properly once more.

Yes, nothing could be better. With his priorities cleared, Yukimura stood up and stretched lithely, and was just about to head to the kitchen for a little pick-me-up when his house phone rang.

"Yukimura residence, Yukimura Seiichi speaking."

On the other line, Sanada Geniharu was surprised at his luck. He had expected some difficulties in contacting the heir of the Yukimura Clan; they ought to have been guarding their heir with more zeal.

"Yukimura-kun? I am Genichirou's grandfather."

Yukimura blinked at that. Sure, lots of unusual things had occurred recently; Sanada's grandfather calling didn't seem as strange as it should be.

"Can I help you, Sanada-san? May I know who you're looking for?"

At least, the studying didn't kill his politeness.

Sanada Geniharu cleared his throat nervously, while checking the hallway for his grandson. If Genichirou knew of what his grandfather was trying to do, the boy would probably murder him, bloodlines be damned. No, he had to be really discreet about this, so careful that even Yukimura Seiichi would not dream of telling Genichirou of this weird call from the latter's grandfather.

"I want to meet you, Yukimura-kun. Before you say anything, I need you to know that this is regarding the dreams that I know you're having. Don't tell Genichirou about this. And don't ask me any questions now; I'll answer them when we meet tomorrow. If you come before 6, Genichirou will be busy in the dojo. I'll see you then."

Sanada Geniharu knew that he was being terribly cryptic, and impolite to say the least, but he could not afford the time it would take to explain everything to the boy.

He needed Yukimura Seiichi to remember.

The phone line went dead on Yukimura, who made a face. That call was plain mysterious, and he hated not being in the know about things concerning himself. However, what really scared him was how Sanada's grandfather knew about the dreams. It wasn't possible that Genichirou had told him about them? But Yukimura could see absolutely no reason why Sanada would do something like that. Well, he'll get his answers someway or another, tomorrow. Shrugging, he tried to return to his work, but could not get any revision done.

* * *

"I'm sorry Sanada-san, but may I know what this meeting is about?"

Yukimura sat on the floor mat, directly opposite Sanada's stern looking grandfather. The man seemed imposing and strict, but it did not take much for Yukimura, astute as he was, to notice the underlying sadness in his eyes. Impatient as Yukimura was, he decided to wait for Sanada Geniharu to start explaining, instead of pushing the old man for answers.

He did not have to wait long.

"I have so much to tell you, but so little time. I do not believe that Genichirou would want me to tell you anything, but I think that you deserve the right to know. Firstly, I need you to promise never to hurt my grandson, no matter the outcome of my revelation. Do we have an agreement?"

Yukimura frowned slightly at this. Hurt his grandson? Hurt Sanada Genichirou? Why would he ever want to do that? Unless, there was something that the old Sanada Clanhead was aware of, that no one else knew about.

"Sure, of course." It was easy to promise, but it frightened Yukimura to find himself already compromising this promise in his head. He would not hurt Sanada…within reason.

Sanada Geniharu, unaware of what was passing through Yukimura's head, nodded slightly at this. "Very well, I want you to take a close look at the painting behind me, then."

The painting was faint, obviously very old, and to Yukimura, disturbingly familiar. It did not take him too long to realise that it was his very own style of painting and his own technique. His eyes widened in horrified realisation.

"Oh…" was all he could manage. The man in the picture was identical to Sanada Genichirou, and Yukimura was reminded suddenly of the conversation he had with Atobe Keigo the other day.

_"Do you have a portrait of Sanada?"_

_"No, though it feels as though I do." _

Sanada Geniharu was watching the mixed expressions on Yukimura's face, from confusion to terrified realisation. He knew that there was absolutely no mistaking the boy now. Yukimura's reaction to the portrait that he himself drew hundreds of years ago, proved everything. Now, for the hard part. Sanada Geniharu sighed with regret over what he was about to do. He knew that Genichirou would probably never forgive his next plans. Somewhere in the house, the phone rang.

"Yukimura-san? If you would turn the portrait around?"

Yukimura snapped out of his reverie, and stared blankly at Sanada Geniharu for a while. Then, he carried out the suggestion after taking a moment to process it.

The slight gasp that escaped his lips was all the warning Sanada Geniharu received, before the beautiful blue eyes fluttered shut, and the boy collapsed onto the floor, the painting still clutched tightly in his left hand.

The crest of the five-petalled Sakura stood out glaringly, despite the faded ink.

It was the crest of the Yukimura Clan.

Sanada Geniharu was distracted then, when the door slid open to reveal his grandson, the calm on his face belying the cold fury underneath.

"Genichirou, why did you-" He was cut off mid sentence, when his grandson interrupted smoothly.

"Good afternoon, Grandfather. Seiichi's mother called, and would like to know when her son was returning. Imagine her horror when I accidentally let slip that he wasn't at my place. However, a check to his phone proved that someone from our house _did_ call them yesterday night." At this, Genichirou paused and strode fully into the room. He knelt down next to his unconscious friend. As his eyes met his grandfather's, Geniharu couldn't help but wonder if this was the Clanhead resurfacing in his grandson.

"I was confused at first, and extremely worried. But then I realised that there was only one Sanada that would be cunning enough to pull this off." At this, Geniharu tried to protest, but Sanada would have none of it. His grandfather turned away slightly, the hurt and misery evident in his eyes.

"I hope you're happy, grandfather," Genichirou's voice raised in volume, showing his anger effectively, "because Seiichi is going to remember how to hate me."

* * *

_**Sanada…**_

_**The rain pattered onto his face. Seiichi knew what everything meant now. He could see himself, as a child, waiting anxiously for a father to return from battle in victory, only to leave and never return again. He saw his friends, many faces he knew now as well. Marui, who died unjustly, Yagyuu who stood by his side all the way, and of course…Sanada. **_

**_The torrent of grey around him could not hide the sliver of light glinting off their swords. This he remembered all too well, but he had never dreamt of the chance, never imagined that he would have to explain his actions to Sanada. Why did he leave like this? Clanheads were not supposed to let love cloud their judgements. _**

**_The sound of blade meeting blade rang through his mind. He was aware of the cold, the tears that mingled with water, and of yelling. Sanada was so angry, but he had no right, absolutely no right to be angry at all. _**

_**No, he had to explain his actions. He needed to wake up, he could not stay here forever. Seiichi's eyes widened, and he felt his hand reflexively drop the sword, an action he could not stop anymore than he could change history. **_

_**Intense pain, but he needed to wake up now, because Sanada needed to know. **_

_**Sanada. No. He called the man by another name.**_

**_Genichirou…_**

Yukimura jerked awake, the memories fresh in his mind. They weren't leaving this time, he knew that. The futon was soft and comfortable, and the surroundings familiar in an unfamiliar way. He knew exactly where he was, had been here time and again to discuss team rankings and upcoming tournaments.

He also recognised the figure seating across the room, still clad in kendo robes.

"Genichirou."

Sanada turned his head away from his captain's gaze, trying very hard to ignore the uprising feelings of bitterness. He could not see the man in anything except the white robes that he loved so much back then. He could no longer disassociate the wilful young man from the determined boy anymore. It was easier to forgive Yukimura's deeds when he could convince himself that Yukimura could not remember them.

He wanted answers. He deserved them after everything he had to go through because of Yukimura's death. Taking a deep breath, he found his voice.

"Start explaining."

Yukimura winced at the tone Sanada was using. It was painful, but he had to admit that Sanada had every right to use it. Right. He had woken up with the intention of explaining himself anyway. He should be grateful for the chance, but right now, all he wanted to do was cry. Still, he would not admit defeat, not in front of anybody.

"Where do you want me to begin?" He winced inwardly. The nonchalance in his voice sounded cold and unaffected by Sanada's pain. This was going to be a nightmare.

"Begin at why you chose to kill yourself."

AN: Sorry about the cliffhanger! Eheeh. I know I haven't updated since forever, but I had finals to murder, which I think did the murdering to me in the end. Well, I will try to complete this story as soon as possible. I don't really like this part, but I couldn't seem to remedy it, so, whooee. Please R and R!


	11. Chapter 11

Last Chances 11:

AN: After such a long long long long time, I have finally finished a chapter. –collapses- I am so sorry to all you wonderful readers who are bothering to follow this fic, and THANK YOU SO MUCH for the support. I hope my writing style hasn't changed too much since I first started writing this fic; I've tried to keep it more or less the same, but let me know if there's anything…weird. XD

Reviews will be much appreciated, as well as constructive criticism. Thank you once again!

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

Last Chances 

Chapter 11: Epiphany

Yukimura stared at him in poorly disguised incredulity. Sanada felt his throat tighten, felt anger pulling at the reins, threatening to take over his mind. The strong set to Yukimura's jaw took on a bitter edge, the slight upward curl to normally soft lips was tinged with mocking resentment.

"You can't be serious."

Sanada closed his eyes, and forced himself to calm down. Deep breaths were the basics to meditation, and to the attainment of tranquillity. Not that he could ever hope to attain anything remotely resembling peace with Yukimura there, with remembering everything and with not getting any of the answers that he would die for.

"But I am."

There was no answer, and Sanada opened his eyes a moment later, and found Yukimura staring into his garden, the glow of the setting sun highlighting some of his features yet casting dark shadows across others, making it difficult for Sanada to read his expression.

Not that Sanada was ever proficient at that, either.

Yukimura appeared calm, nonchalance etched firmly into his placid frame. In contrast, Sanada's stance was tense, his usual rigid self held even more so to create a defensive aloofness. The small physical proximity between them belied the growing emotional chasm. Sanada took in the darkened sapphire eyes, twin agates in a face of stone, and steeled his own features.

This was a familiar moment. He could remember in an instant now, their many arguments, their restrained facades, their thinly veiled insults, and Yukimura always calm, always nonchalant, always coming on top.

He had always wondered why he tolerated Seiichi, and this time was no exception.

He had always failed to notice Yukimura's subtle expression of frustration, the slight trembling of normally relaxed hands, the too-bright clearness in beautiful eyes, and this time was no exception.

"So you don't know why I killed myself."

The Rikkai captain's deceptively soft words were laced with bitter disappointment. Sanada was torn between wanting to kill his friend, and wanting to question, keep questioning until he had his answers.

"I expected to have to explain anything, Genichirou, but this. To explain why I chose that moment to drop my sword, perhaps, but I cannot explain this. Never this."

Sanada's mind reeled, from disbelief or hurt, he wasn't entirely sure.

But despite the passing of countless centuries he cannot, will not forgive Yukimura's talent for manipulation. If he should be feeling anything, it would rightfully be resentment.

"Why am I expected to know? Why should I know why you chose to use me? Did you do it on purpose, knowing that I wouldn't be able to-"

He cut himself short, his voice suddenly hoarse.

After so many years, centuries of unconscious longing and hidden desire, he still couldn't bring himself to admit his feelings.

After Yukimura's death he spent nights lying in the futon they had shared, burying his face in Yukimura's robes and wishing that he had been the one to drop the sword first, to die by those smooth soothing white hands.

If Yukimura heard now, or even suspected the existence of the unspoken, the boy gave no inclination of it. Instead, a slight smile, calm, almost detached, had imprinted itself across the captain's face, and his voice blended into a sarcastic mixture of taunt and feigned ignorance.

"You wouldn't be able to what? Do tell me, Genichirou, or if you would rather, how about you tell me how you came to die so unhappily?"

Sanada paled.

"It's none of your business-"

Yukimura tilted his head to one side, as if in polite disagreement.

"Oh, but I feel that it relates perfectly to our topic at hand."

He would have argued further, but Yukimura raised a hand to stop him from interrupting.

"You killed yourself, didn't you?"

There was no answer save for the terse silence that followed.

Yukimura's eyes narrowed.

"So you threw away your life for nothing."

"That's not true! You don't understand what I felt when-"

"What we suffered back then may have been very different, but our feelings were essentially the same. Foolish, Genichirou. I did what I did so that you wouldn't have to." Yukimura's voice became firmer, and carried with it a hint of bitter melancholy, as if he was remembering a painful memory from the past.

Sanada glared at the man before him, a haunting vision from the past. The sun had long set, and in the traditional settings of the house as well as the lanterns lit on the corridor, an upholding of ritual, all he saw was the beautiful stubborn young lord that he allowed into his life out of his own folly.

"You're wrong," he spat out, trying and failing to sound neutral, "You don't understand what you did. You didn't have to live as some…some instrument of death! I didn't leave you after using you to fulfil some unfathomable purpose!" His voice shook slightly with rage, and Sanada forced his hands down, willing himself not to hit Yukimura for his sheer selfishness.

Yukimura sighed, and Sanada wondered if he imagined the fleeting look of condescension that passed on his beloved's face.

"Please give me more credit. I wasn't trying to kill myself just so I could fulfil some twisted plot to make you die from loneliness and pining." He gave a mirthless chuckle, and Sanada clenched his teeth to prevent himself from shouting at his captain.

Yukimura had no right_, no right_ to belittle the pain that Sanada had felt at the hands of his captain's death.

"If I wanted to kill you, I would never have dropped my sword."

For Yukimura to drop his sword was a breach of virtue, a taint on his family's honour. And yet, knowing this, Sanada still didn't know what to believe; to put Yukimura past deceit was far too naïve, it was hard to hold to the notion that honour and virtue still held a place in the man's heart. Sanada was tired; he no longer knew what to believe.

Not wanting to meet Yukmura's frigid gaze, Sanada lowered his eyes onto his lap as he asked another question that ate at him persistently.

"Why _me_? Why did you make me-"

His breath and his words caught in his throat. Long slender fingers brushed softly against his forehead, willing him to look up. Yukimura's flawless face was a sudden mere inches from his own, warm breath fluttering gently against his cheek.

"You fool," Yukimura whispered, his voice now a heartbreaking softness and something else, something that Sanada wanted desperately to understand but found that he could not. He would have opened his mouth to reply, some half-hearted self-defence, but warm lips pressed themselves against his own, before abandoning him just as quickly.

He had long forgotten the taste of bitterness.

Yukimura rose to his feet, his shoulders slumped with fatigue and resignation. Still, he held his head upright, reminiscent of the proud young lord that he had been, and would continue to be. Sanada watched him move towards the open doorway, where he paused, as though grounding his resolve.

"I thought you would understand, but clearly I've made a mistake."

He made no move to stop Yukimura; there were no words, or gestures, that could help him keep Seiichi, anymore.

He'd always been at a loss, whether it had been in the past when his feelings were directed to the young rival lord, or in the present, when Yukimura had come to mean more than a captain or a friend to him.

The paper door drew shut. The smooth sound of polish wood sliding against the frame rang sharply in Sanada's ears, and he listened, a strange numbness taking over his body, as soft hasty footfalls slowly faded into the distance.

* * *

"Jiroh…why did you call me out?"

Marui stared in exasperation at the dozing figure by his side. They were sitting at a street tennis court, the orange tinge to the sky hinting that the sun was setting.

In response, the figure next to him rolled over and sighed.

This was…pointless. If Jiroh wanted to nap, he could have done it in the comfort of his own home, and Marui could go do whatever it was he spent most of his free time doing.

He stood up, and stretched, preparing to return to his mundane existence. Deceptively slender fingers wrapped themselves strongly around his wrist, and Marui looked down in surprise. Jiroh's eyes were wide open, his mouth drawn into a tight frown, foreign on his usually carefree face.

"Will you leave me again, Marui-kun?"

Shock.

"What are you-"

"Don't lie to me. I hate it when you lie."

Jiroh wasn't supposed to know, to remember, and Marui, well, Marui was supposed to be allowed to continue loving him from a distance, as he had done in the past, right up to when Atobe Keigo waltzes in to steal Jiroh from him, again.

The bubblegum was long since flavourless in Marui's mouth. It was now dry, and Marui could taste bile rising in the back of his throat.

"Marui-kun?"

No. He didn't want to look up, didn't want to see Jiroh's concern. It wasn't fair, it never was fair. Why couldn't Jiroh just leave him be, for once?

"Why did you leave?"

The simple heartbreak in Jiroh's voice forced Marui's chin up, forced him to once again meet the boy he loved to death face to face. And if he was bitter, it was Jiroh's own fault. And Atobe's. Definitely Atobe's.

"Why do you care?"

Marui knew he sounded callous, he could tell when Jiroh flinched, but, perhaps, he didn't give a damn about Jiroh's feelings anymore.

"You know I cared. We were friends, I begged you not to-"

"So you wanted me to stay and see you pine after _him, _knowing he would never _ever _love you like I did?" Like I do, he wanted to say, but couldn't quite bring himself to.

There was anguish in Jiroh's brilliant eyes, heightened by the piercing reflection of the sunset. To Marui, the sight was blinding.

"He did love me, he does, he told me he did when I…"

Marui dropped his eyes. He didn't want, shouldn't need to hear this.

"What, Jiroh? When you what?" Perhaps when you let him warm your bed, convenient a page boy that you were, and beautiful…far too beautiful for the likes of Atobe Keigo…

The silence stretched, a long metaphorical eon preceding the softest of whispers that Marui had to strain disbelieving ears to catch.

"When I killed him, Marui-kun."

* * *

"Are you angry, Seiichi?"

There was an oppressive silence on the other end of the line, followed by a shuddering intake of breath. Renji set down his pen and lay back in his chair. Slivers of onyx peered through lowered lashes as he gazed onto the clinical whiteness of his ceiling.

"Should you be angry?"

A heavy sigh was the immediate reply, and Renji was made to wait a fraction longer for an answer.

"I should. With you."

A frown.

"I'm charitable enough not to say the same back."

"You knew why I allowed Genichirou to kill me."

"…I do now."

Renji could hear his captain's disgruntled grumbling.

"Then you're a sight more intelligent than he ever will be. Why didn't you stop him?"

Tempting as it was to feign ignorance towards Yukimura's question, Renji knew that his friend would persist in asking until he had his answers. At the end of the day, Yukimura would get what he called for; Renji could choose to give in gracefully or with the added bonus of enough laps to impress even Seigaku's captain.

"When has Genichirou ever listened to anyone but you? Don't talk about the present; the entire Rikkai bows to your every whim. But even back then, Seiichi, he betrayed his mother for you-"

"Conniving bitch that she was-"

"Even so. What did you expect him to do after you died? And you wanted me to stop him from what? Being depressed?'

Yukimura fell silent. The pause in the flow of the argument was so prolonged that Renji double checked the receiver to make sure he hadn't hung up by accident.

"Seiichi?"

"I thought…he could learn to be happy." Yukimura's voice was wistful, but not without a hint of the characteristic stubbornness that Rikkai had long since learnt to relent to.

Renji brought a hand up to his temples. Clearly, Sanada wasn't the only fool amongst his friends.

"Would you like the percentage probability of Genichirou ever being happy without you, whether in this lifetime, or the previous? Because it's not zero, but it's very, very close."

A sullen harrumph travelled across the phone, before Yukimura muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, 'a thousand laps with weights on both ankles ought to cheer you up'.

Renji didn't think Yukimura would carry out that threat, but he wasn't one to take unnecessary risks. Sitting upright in his chair, his tone took on a kinder softness.

"Look, it's been _centuries_. Whatever happened, Seiichi, it's all past now."

"What, just let it go?" Yukimura sounded doubtful, and Renji quickly overrode his reservations by interjecting.

"Let it all go. It's over. And who knows? You may even be happy. You both may be."

Hearing Yukimura's faint affirmation followed by quiet laughter, Renji relaxed and allowed a slight smile to tug at his lips.

Perhaps, now, it was time to practice what he just preached.

Akaya should not be kept waiting any longer.


End file.
